


No Way Out

by LifeInWentworth



Category: Bad Girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 16:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeInWentworth/pseuds/LifeInWentworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yvonne is locked in a room below the prison and the only one who knows she is there is Jim Fenner. Whilst the rest of the prison celebrates her escape, she literally rots to death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Way Out

The door slammed immediately behind Yvonne and she turned to it, to push it open, realising she wasn’t in a tunnel out at all but a tiny room. She heard a key turn in the lock. Fenner. It had to be.  
“Fenner,” she screamed out. She could hardly take three steps across the room she was in; and why the hell didn’t it lead out like the map had said? That fucking map, she thought, it must have been out dated. She banged on the door and the stone walls, calling Fenner every name under the sun, before both her fists and her throat hurt. She collapsed against the wall, sinking down against it, crying.

Now Yvonne Atkins wasn’t one to cry or to get openly angry but what choice did she have in a situation like this? The prisoners would assume no news was good news – she’d escaped. Shit, in a few hours they’d probably be celebrating above her, not knowing that her shitty situation had just gone from bad to fatal. The air in the room was already humid, stuffy as it passed down her throat; she wasn’t going to last long. She’d been on such a high; finally going to escape Larkhall and now this, she couldn’t die like this. Not after everything, not after surviving so much in this horrible place and so many life-threatening situations.

“Somebody,” she screamed, choking on tears, “Help me,” she screamed with all her might; help me, not a phrase anybody had ever heard Yvonne Atkins utter, and ironically now she had let it drop from her lips, there was nobody around to hear it. Her fingers were starting to get red and raw from peeling at the stone walls in desperation.

She had nothing with her to kill the time, to distract her. Very quickly, she lost count of the hours. That tends to happen when you’re trapped underground and the light is constantly the same; dark until it becomes pitch black. She sobbed like a baby that night (she assumed it was night) seeing no way out of this situation.

The next day she got angry. She’d spent her entire life protecting other people, yeah it was often to satisfy her own needs or gain favours, but not always. She had tried to protect her idiot son and he had completely turned on her until all the rotten blood led to his death, she tried to help her daughter but she hadn’t had too much more luck there; at least Lauren was alive and talking to her. What about Denni, she began to think. She had just adopted the younger prisoner, and the light in Denni’s eyes had never shone brighter. Yvonne had come to love the way that Denni had begun to refer to her as her mother. They’d had a plan. They’d both be out in a couple of years and then they’d live with Lauren and Yvonne would take care of both her daughters. Except she was trapped in this fucking black hole with no way out. She punched the wall until the pain was too much to take. What a fucking joke. Would Fenner ever be caught and held responsible for the shit he did? It was the fucking prison system, letting him get away with rape, assault, corruption, murder and god knows what else. He was a bastard and all the prisoners knew it; but they were just prisoners, right? His crimes seemed to be getting worse and Yvonne couldn’t bear to imagine what he would do next, and more so how the women would cope without her? There wasn’t even anyone who could take over, not really. She’d been the top dog at Larkhall pretty much since she had arrived; I mean Dockley was never looking out for anyone but herself, at least Atkins had utilitarian motives. She had taken over with record speed even though she wasn’t always loud, overbearing and barking orders. It was more subtle than that, more of an art form the way that she controlled what went on in the prison. But in the end, even with Karen, a prison officer on her side, determined to take Fenner down, she still couldn’t win.  
She screamed a blood curdling sound, “I’ll get you Fenner,” she yelled, knowing that she never would. 

Would she go insane in here? It had been two nights at least, maybe three. She’d hardly slept, her stomach was turning on itself without any food or water in that time. She tried to keep herself sane, counting, doing the times tables, listing every way she would dismantle Jim Fenner if she ever got out, but with every hour passed, she knew she was going to die here. So what was the use of remaining sane? There was nothing dignified in dying in a dark room, alone and underground, knowing your friends are probably still celebrating your great escape, knowing that Fenner was probably laughing somewhere, imagining her rotting away to death. Which she was.

The quiet was what really got to her. For days on end, the only sound she could hear was that of her own voice screaming. The hope that anyone would ever hear her faded quickly. For a while, she had slammed her fist methodically against the door until it hurt just to hear the sound. She whistled a while too, but the lack of oxygen she was getting made her head hurt and breathing become laboured. She tried to sing, until she was just too tired to do anything. Back against the wall, she spread her legs out and her head lolled to the side. What a shit way to die.  
It could have been hours or days or weeks that had passed by now, she couldn’t tell anymore. The air was thick and it felt like trying to swallow bricks to get the oxygen to her lungs. She could hardly cry anymore, there was no water left in her body and she felt her chest heaving up and down, with more effort than it should take to simply breathe. It was only a couple more hours before she began to cough. The air was running out, that was obvious and her body was weak from malnutrition.  
“This is it,” she whispered to herself, unable to raise her bloodied fingers anymore. Her eyes grew heavy and in the end, it wasn’t ridiculously painful though it wasn’t entirely pleasant, she just fell into a trembling sleep as her body gave up, as her mind had long ago. All she could think was, he won, that fucking bastard won.


End file.
